Why
by MarauderChick09
Summary: Why doesn't she like James Potter? Why does she let James Potter get to her? Why did she fall for him? Over the years, Lily Evans found that she had been asked a lot of questions she couldn't answer.


Over the years, Lily Evans found that she had been asked a lot of questions she couldn't answer. She was a bright girl, and anything to do with Charms or Potions was no problem. If someone needed some advice about the proper wand movement for this spell or which new ingredient would make the effects of their Sleeping Draught last longer, she was their girl. She never really thought about it, but if she had, she would notice a pattern in those inquiries that stumped her, which were few and far between. A pattern that was quite obvious to everyone else around her.

All of them had to do with James Potter.

Mostly, it was the ws. When did she decide she hated him? Where were they together last night? What were her feelings towards him now? Her fellow classmates (and the entire population of Hogwarts, really) was notoriously nosey, especially when it came to the relationships of their peers. Sev, Mary, Emmeline, random strangers; they were constantly coming at her with an endless stream of inquisitive ws, most of which were pertaining to the messy haired bane of her existence. She tried not to think to think too hard about them, or why they were so difficult for her. Especially the 'whys'.

In the beginning, circa first and second years, all of the whys were just different variations of the same one; Why didn't she like James Potter? It was something she asked herself, as well as something she was endlessly pestered about by her friends, who all thought Potter was some sort of dishy martyr. She had known from the moment she met him on the train that she didn't, so it wasn't a matter of figuring out her feelings, rather it was more that she had trouble explaining them. It was true that he tormented her on a day to day basis, messing with her things, making fun on her ginger hair and freckles, being cheeky and generally just acting obnoxious, but he'd rubbed her the wrong way even before he started doing these things, and its not like he'd ever directed one of his major pranks towards her.

He was mean to Sev. That was a major reason. Even before he'd really known him, he had made fun of him. Him and all the other Slytherins, really. Lily knew that for some reason there was some sort of rivalry between the two houses, but she couldn't fathom why this gave him the right to treat them all so horribly. Why, just because they were somewhat on opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to personality, did they automatically have to hate each other? She and Sev were friends, after all, and they were very different from each other. She found it mean, and cruel, and she knew it wasn't just Potter. But in her mind, he was an example of exactly the wrong type of attitude.

It wasn't just that, of course. It was also his hair. It was so untidy and he was always running his freaking hand through it and she absolutely hated it. Even before she hated him. She hated several things about him, actually, before she labeled her overall feelings towards him as such. She hated the way he walked down the halls with his mates, positively strutting and putting on a show for everyone. She hated the way he automatically could perform the most difficult spells in class, and how he smirked around at them all when he did. His smirk was another thing she hated, in fact. It was like James Potter's entire being bothered her in the weirdest, most ineffable sort of way. She might've pushed him off a cliff, or offed herself, if someone had told her that this was only the beginning; and indeed what she felt towards him now, which seemed weirdly intense things to feel about someone she barely knew, was only a fraction as strong as what she would feel towards him later.

Third through fifth year was the peak of her hatred toward Potter (she no longer deigned to acknowledge the fact that he had a first name). Starting when they were thirteen years old, he began to pay her a lot of unwanted attention, and before they knew it it had escalated into a full out war. Now it was always the same 'why'. Their feud had become a great source of entertainment to the rest of the school, and no one bothered to rearrange the words anymore. It didn't matter; by this point she was happy to rant about him to anyone who would listen, and people quickly learned not to ask twice, so she didn't actually hear it that much. But her answers were never very clear. Why did she let James Potter get to her?

It was a similar question; and involved feelings that she found much easier to describe. Usually Lily was very calm, cool, and collected. She was known for it. But Potter said one word and she became a shrieking banshee. He was looking for a reaction, a way to bother her, and she gave him exactly what he wanted. It wasn't a voluntary thing, it just happened. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it a little. She wanted him to know that it wasn't just his random quirks that bothered her anymore. She wanted him to hurt because of it, as twisted as that sounded. She thought he was arrogant, and rude, and she thought he deserved to know as much. The way he pretended to be enamoured with her, the suggestion that she felt anything but complete and utter disdain for him, was ridiculous. It was embarrassing, this need she felt to raise her voice whenever he looked at, touched, or was within a five mile radius of her, but people seemed to think that Potter was pulling the strings, that she couldn't control herself if she wanted to. She tried to explain this as best she could, but her need to prove that they were wrong often got her ranting and raving about the situation until no one could understand what she was trying to say.

The most difficult 'why' of all was one that was asked from seventh year until the day she died. It was undoubtedly the hardest one to answer, but it sparked different emotions than the other two. At eleven years old, she had been unable to explain the annoyance she felt. At fifteen, she'd been unclear in her rage at their misunderstanding of she and Potter's relationship. When this new question was asked, however, she simply felt that there was no right answer. Well, there was, but it wasn't one that she could possibly articulate.

"Why do you love him?" People would ask, or, "Why did you end up falling for him?" Mostly it was old classmates who did a bad job at masking their shock at finding out she had married James when they ran into each other at the Leaky Cauldron. The first time she heard it, it seemed odd that she'd never tried to put a label on the reasons their relationship had changed. She would give the people who asked a little smile and generic answer, but the question always kept her thinking for hours afterward. Why did she love him? Well, he was James. They were just...meant for each other, as corny as that sounded. She couldn't sum it up, the process of falling in love with him, or simplify it to the point where it would make sense to anyone who hadn't been involved. He...he was James. His tie was always looser than regulation, and he took his job as Quidditch Captain very seriously. At some point, he had stopped being the boy who showed off every chance he got and harassed her unrelentingly. He had started being the man who cared so much. About the war, about his friends, about her. His hair stopped being annoying and she started to feel uncomfortable around him for a whole nother reason. She realized he'd always been one of the most important people in her life. She fell for him because he was the answer to all the whens and wheres and whats and hows. And the whys. Especially the whys.


End file.
